24
by LaylaBinx
Summary: One-shot! Dean comes down with a stomach virus and is convinced he's dying. Sam takes care of him. Sick Dean, Caring Sam. Humor and fluff abound :D


**Hello all!! Hope you've had a wonderful holiday!! I've been working on the second chapter to Donor but this idea popped in my head and would not leave me alone until it was written so...here it is :D Hope you like it!!**

**I own nothing!!**

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"Ugh…I'm gunna freakin' die…" Dean moaned pitifully as he threw up for the eighth time in about an hour. He winced and flushed the toilet once again, closing his eyes and resting his back against the cool tiles the lined the walls of the tiny bathroom. Vomiting had to be one of the most debilitating things in the entire world and this damn stomach virus had been making him forcefully remove everything in his stomach from the past three days. He groaned again as his stomach did an uneasy flip and swallowed slowly. "I would take hell any day over this…"

"Oh come on, it's not that bad." Sam chided as he walked into the bathroom, setting a few things in the sink as he entered.

"Dude, I've thrown up things that I don't think should have come out." Dean winced as his stomach clenched again even though he knew there was very little he had left to get rid of.

"It's just a 24-hour bug. You'll be over it in a few hours."

Something registered and Dean looked up, confusion crossing his face. "Dude, where did you go?"

"Not far, there was a vending machine outside so I went to see if I could find something for you." Sam reassured him, popping the top on some kind of can and handing it to his brother. "Here, drink this. It shouldn't be too hard on your stomach."

Dean scowled at the can of Ginger Ale Sam had given him and looked up incredulously. "Sammy, I just threw up water…I don't think Ginger Ale is going to be that much easier to handle…"

Sam rolled his eyes a little and shook his head. "Trust me, the carbonation will help to neutralize some of the acid in your stomach."

Dean gave his younger brother a skeptical look and sighed slowly. "Man, when Ginger Ale comes out of my nose I'm going to beat your ass…" He took a hesitant sip of the drink, the carbonation burning his raw throat as he swallowed. He half-expected the drink to immediately come back up but to his surprise he managed to keep it down. After waiting a few seconds and satisfied that he wasn't about to pull another Linda Blair, he took a few more small sips before setting the can aside and leaning back against the wall. "God…what time is it?" He mumbled more to himself than anything, looking out into the hotel bedroom and noticing the darkened windows.

Sam glanced at his watch and squinted at the numbers for a second. "Right around 10:15." He crouched down in front of his brother and looked at him carefully. "Dude, you look like hell."

"Yeah, well that's what throwing up for fifteen hours will do to you." Dean muttered, sliding down the wall and resting his head against the cold, flat surface of the floor. He had already spent the majority of the day here, finding it was easier to sleep in the bathroom rather than running from the bedroom when the time came. At least here he was almost guaranteed to make his destination.

Sam sat down beside him, stretching his legs out under the sink and leaning against the wall. He'd been in and out of the bathroom all day to check on Dean but most of the time he was either mid-puke or asleep on the floor. The virus had been going around apparently, a few people they'd met in the past couple days coming down with it. There was nothing supernatural about it but it sure as hell was a pain in the ass. Sam wiggled out of his jacket and laid it across his legs, looking over to his older brother.

"Dean." His name caught him by surprise, the lingering tendrils of sleep pulling at him as he lay flat. Dean sat up on one elbow and looked over to see Sam pat his leg invitingly.

Seeing his brother's puzzled expression, Sam sighed. "Come on, man. It's gotta be more comfortable than the floor."

Realization dawned on him and Dean nodded a little, scooting over and laying his head against Sam's leg. His sighed and relaxed, agreeing that this was definitely more comfortable than the floor, and closed his eyes. He shifted a little so that he was lying on his back, his shoulders long since bruised from the hard tiles. Something cool and damp was laid across his forehead and he jumped involuntarily, the new sensation startling him out of the relaxation he had just started to enjoy. "When did you get a washcloth…?" He mumbled, opening his eyes to see the damp cloth resting above his brow.

"I'm a ninja." Sam replied automatically, flashing him a half-smile and fishing a trash magazine out of his back pocket. This normally wasn't his preferred type of reading material but it was the only thing the front lobby of the hotel had to offer so he had to settle with an abundance of celebrity meltdowns and various other dramas. "Did you know they think Angelina Jolie is pregnant again?" He muttered as he flipped to the first page.

"Dude, they're building a soccer team…" Dean mumbled back, closing his eyes again and crossing his arms over his chest. A comfortable silence fell between them and Dean was almost on the verge of sleep when he heard it. Sam was humming.

It was a simple tune, but not one he'd ever heard before. In fact, it sounded a lot like it had been made up on the spot right then and there. However, it was nice and he found himself enjoying the odd little tune. Still, he had to ask. "Dude, what are you doing…?"

Sam stopped and looked down, almost startled by the question. "Huh? Oh, sorry. It's something Jessica used to do when I was sick…"

Dean winced, knowing the memories must have been hard right then. "Sorry, man."

His younger brother shook his head a little. "It's cool."

There was one more thing bothering him and Dean simply had to ask before he fell back asleep. "Hey Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"We're having a total chick flick moment right now aren't we?"

Sam never glanced down from his magazine but nodded. "Totally."

"Thought so." With that question answered, Dean closed his eyes and allowed himself to sink into the welcoming embrace of sleep.

**OOOOO**

Dean awoke several hours later, opening his eyes slowly and looking around the room in confusion. He wasn't entirely sure how or when he had gotten into the bed but the room was still dark, the gentle hum of the air conditioner droning in the background. He glanced at the bedside table, the clock's red numbers glowing 4:47 am. There was a small bottle of Gatorade on the table along with a little note that said 'Drink this Jerk' with a goofy little smiley face scribble along the side of the hotel stationary.

Not wanting to disobey the note or upset the smiley face, Dean took the bottle and opened it, gulping down the fruity beverage. He made a face at the sugary aftertaste but was pleasantly surprised to feel that his stomach managed to stay in one place instead of doing the complicated flips and spins it had been doing earlier in the evening. Something caught his attention and he sat up a little more, looking around the room. "Sammy?"

Sam was nowhere to be seen, the other bed still unmade from the night before. However, Sam's wallet and phone were still on the table so he couldn't have gone far.

Dean stood slowly, glancing down at his sleep mussed clothes and frowning. Damn, he really needed a shower but finding Sam was his first priority for now. "Sam." He called a little louder, looking back toward the bathroom.

The door was closed, a thin stream of light coming from the underside and illuminating the carpet in the yellowish fluorescent glow of hotel lighting. Stepping closer, Dean tapped on the door softly, turning the handle. "Sammy?"

His little brother was hunched over the toilet, much in the same position he himself had been in earlier that day. Sam gagged sharply and spit into the toilet, hiding his face in the crook of his arm. "Oh my God, Dean, I hate you so much…" He groaned, glaring weakly at his older brother before squeezing his eyes closed against his arm.

"Aw Sam…" Dean winced sympathetically as his brother wretched again and set his jaw. "Stay here, alright? I'll go see if I can get some Ginger Ale out of the vending machine."

"Jerk…" Came the weak insult.

Dean smirked a little and ruffled is little brother's hair affectionately. "Bitch." He turned and made his way to the door, counting out enough changed to by a few sodas if need be. Sammy was going to be in for a long day…

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**Hehe, poor Dean and Sam; I just can't help but abuse the, a little :D**


End file.
